


They would have told me, right?

by Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_nextgen_fest, HP Next Gen Fest 2018, Harry Potter Next Generation, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, POV Multiple, POV Outsider, Quidditch Player James Sirius Potter, Quidditch Player Scorpius Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe/pseuds/Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe
Summary: Albus had heard the rumours.  It was hard not to when his best mates were the subject.He loved them.  Scorp and James.  He really did. But he wouldn't complain if they decided to take it down a notch, though.  Snaps with the people they presumably actually dated.  Maybe a statement to the press.  But Scorpius would just laugh in that disarming way he had from years of PR witches' work to smooth out the awkward.We're just mates.  And then turn around and he would have Jamie on his lap, handsy as only two boys living out of suitcases and Quidditch locker rooms could be.  They were up in each other's pockets so long now, it was impossible to think of one without the other.  The press had a name for that: Scames.





	They would have told me, right?

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt sort of got away with me.

Albus had heard the rumours.  It was hard not to when his best mates were the subject.  It was impossible to get to and from the Ministry without running into every Joe Gotcharazzi pretending at the man on the Knight bus only to pull out their Magi-Motus and Quick-Quotes Quill at the slightest provocation.    
  
He had learned that he was allergic to the aconite in the flash powder.  The St Mungo's way.  
  
They were right vicious bastards, too.  He'd only realised the old lady he'd help cross the street was a reporter when she tried to petrify him with her umbrella.  She got a hard whack at his head before he was able to get away.  
  
He loved them.  Scorp and James.  He really did. But he wouldn't complain if they decided to take it down a notch, though.  Snaps with the people they presumably actually dated. Maybe a statement to the press. But Scorpius would just laugh in that disarming way he had from years of PR witches' work to smooth out the awkward.   _We're just mates_.  And then turn around and he would have Jamie on his lap, handsy as only two boys living out of suitcases and Quidditch locker rooms could be.  They were up in each other's pockets so long now, it was impossible to think of one without the other. The press had a name for that: Scames. _Sounds like a disease_ , Jamie had commented once.    
  
Somehow it had stuck.  
  
But there were times.  Like the time Scorp plus-oned him at the International Quidditch Federation's Snitch Frolic so he could meet James' plus-one, Carla Bianchi (with whom Albus was quite taken). Carla was a reserve Chaser with Streghe Roma, and Albus had somehow convinced her to marry him in June.  
  
While Albus had spent most of the night with her, Scorp and Jamie had ended up utterly pissed in their ridiculously expensive Muggle suits on the dance floor.  Jamie's fat head on Scorpius' shoulder. Scorpius' hand on the small of James' back, caught in the vents of his coat. They were laughing at something Scorpius said while the wrock-band, Amortentia, threw out: _I'm scared as hell to want you / But here I am / wanting you anyway_.  Cast in the amber cells of the fairy lights, they looked like they were in love.    
  
He knew they weren't.  Because they would have told him, right?  
  
*  
  
Lysander and Lorcan knew that their cousin Jem was dating their cousin Scorpius.  Mum said that it was perfectly normal for two wizards to be in love and Mum knew everything.  Besides, Jem and Scorpius were brill. They gave the best prezzies at Christmas and had come to Show and Tell at their Grammar in Tinworth.    
  
It had taken a lot of planning to outdo Chesten Bligh.  She had taken the Science Fair three times running - despite their poster on the habitat of the Blibbering Humdinger - and had signed up to bring in an Abraxas.  Which was just unfair as her family bred them.  
  
They had probably used a little too much Floo powder in calling Jem, but Da said the scorch marks just added character to the hearth.  They relayed their plight to Scorpius, who answered the ring, and they agreed to come.  
  
In the defining moment of their Pre-Hogwarts career, Lorcan and Lysander watched as their class stood round, slack-jawed, as Jem and Scorpius showed their Quidditch moves to Wenlock Grammar.  And to a lot of their parents. In fact, Mr Jones had mentioned later that he'd never had so many parent volunteers as he had that day.

It was certainly better than the year Uncle Harry had come and most of the class fell asleep until he’d made Aunt Ginny apparate in.  Everyone knew Ginny Potter. And _just_ better than the year Uncle Neville had brought in the Devil’s Snare and had to rescue the class hamster.  

Jem signed autographs for everyone and the Principle, Ms Trengrouse, fainted while standing in front of Scorpius.   _He does have the effect on people_ , Jem had said.  They repeated it for months, more of an 18-month wonder than 9-days.  If Scorpius did anything around them, one or the other would say, _he has that effect on people_.  
  
Afterwards, they all went out for ice cream at Fortescue's, which Grandpa Scam always said was never the same after “You-Know-Who.” Lorcan and Lysander had no idea which _who_ he meant and assumed it was Mr Hagrid, the only person they thought could have eaten all the ice cream at Fortescue's.  Jem and Scorpius had gotten a lot of attention from witches and wizards. To the point that they could barely hear each other - and Lysander's story about the Erumpent horn was really good - above the din of a woman in an ill-fitting jumper.  Finally, Lorcan had said, "You should stop talking now, you’re being rude." This was true. Mum thought that speaking your mind was very important. And Jem and Scorpius agreed.  
  
Then Scorpius smeared Jem's mouth in chocolate syrup.  Which Jem demanded he clean up. He did with his tongue - much to their delight.  Jem then dropped his Very Lemon sorbet into Scorpius' lap to which he said, _I guess I have to clean that up_.  But Lycan had smashed his banana into Scorpius' hair, which was some sort of a "National Disaster" and everything descended into delicious chaos.  
  
Mum was very impressed with the state of them when they were returned.    
  
*  
  
Stone Cold Lily Potter ™ could care less about what her brother got up to with Scorpius Malfoy.  Particularly not when she had Esther Longbottom trussed up and down to her panties in her bed (currently removing with her teeth after checking that Esther's hands weren't losing circulation).  The press tended to avoid her after the incident with the indelible spray paint and the spectacularly researched explanation on the harmful pall toxic masculinity set on the wizarding world.  
  
Whether or not James and Scorpius were dating (and she thought they had been since Scorpius had started with Falmouth three years ago), limiting one's emotional range due to gender was just shite.  
  
"Are you going to suck me off or what?"  Esther, her zaftig muse, had a lovely pair of green eyes and an even lovelier sharp tongue.  It had taken Lily forever to win her over and had finally done so on the merits of her own tongue, bringing Esther to orgasm no less than seven times.  Esther had been sleeping (unofficially) in the Slytherin dorm since.  
  
"You are so bossy."  But she was smiling, fitting easily between Esther's thighs.    
  
"You like that I'm bossy."  
  
"I like you."  
  
Later, much later, Esther helped her dress, and they ransacked Jamie's room.  He travelled so much that he didn't have his own flat, just a series of hotel rooms and Grimmauld.  She was particularly fond of pinching his jerseys. Even if Jamie was a prat, he did have a certain sort of cache that was the essential Slytherin currency.    
  
But they weren't able to find one this time.  They did find four pairs of briefs monogrammed with the Malfoy crest and one of the peacock crewelled socks Gran had worked for Scorpius the Christmas last.  "And they say they're not dating."  
  
She ended up with one of Scorpius' at-home jerseys instead.  It was better than nothing.  
  
*  
  
Scorpius asked Al round for a pint at his local of the month.  Falmouth had put them up in a flat in Cowgate with a dedicated Floo and Scorpius had taken a shine to the place down the road.  Muggle places were nice because Scames tended to garner less attention. And this place, _The Justified Sinner_ , apparently had once been owned by a Witch who’d not been able to avoid the village green.  "The place is rife with old magic. Lots of hexes and secrets. It'll be fun to try to suss it out."  
  
As expected, James was there.  But as the night wore on, other Falmouthers were in and out.  Amory Bellchant, Nickle Jain, and the spectacular Jules and King Yi who had played for Unmuwon before being scouted.  Eventually Oliver Wood, their Coach, showed up though he was usually asleep by ten.  
  
The Muggles thought they were some sort of a rugby club and Albus had his arse handed to him by a group of Muggles at darts.  It was just embarrassing.  
  
Stumbling drunk out of the place, Scames forgot where they were staying.  No one remembered their league Portkeys, and even Al was too pissed to apparate.  They got lost in Edinburgh and somehow ended up at a park across from a primary with curry kebobs.  "I think we're lost, my good fellows." When he was drunk, Scorpius fell back into sounding like the heir to a peacock infested mansion in the heart of Wiltshire.  
  
"Too right, love,"  James added, tumbling Scorpius onto the ground with a squawking protest for his curry kebob.    
  
There was a moment, Albus sat on an aluminium bench kebob-less, where he looked at them and had to turn away.  Scorpius had ended up on top, straddling James' hips, with his face no more than a breath away from his brother's.    
  
It struck him as strangely personal.    
  
Hands under his armpits (it was bloody cold in Edinburgh), he wondered.  But they would have told him, right?  
  
*  
  
"Of course they took the best room," Finnegan said - not groaning under the weight of his own bag as Hugo had it.  "Because there's only one bed!" The last was yelled down the hall, Scorpius flipping him off.  
  
While Hugo liked Quidditch well enough, he had only taken the summer internship (i.e. bag carrier and cuppa fetcher) because Rose needed "eyes on the prize."  
  
The prize being confirmation that one James Sirius Potter, 25, was dating one Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, 23.  Without documentable evidence, no one could win.  
  
And Hugo had quite a bit of money riding on his cousin.  It was shocking that Jamie had held out this long. Everyone knew he couldn't keep a secret to save his life.  
  
It had started small enough.  A late summer night in the garden at the Burrow with family and fireflies and Firewhisky.  The usual suspects: Roxanne and Fred, Rose and Hugo, Dominique and Louis. Lily and the Longbottoms, Esther and Francis.  Victoire and Ted were there, but they never participated in the family's favourite past time. The _is-it isn't-it_ a little too on the nose for them.  
  
"I'm sure they have their reasons," Ted weighed in and then went back into the house.  He was a decade older and with Victoire seven months gone with their pup (disgustingly, they actually called it that), she was in and out the loo every ten minutes.    
  
"I suggest we make it a game," Rose suggested.  Rose was a great fan of games (and lotteries and schemes) because she was a statistician and knew how to play her odds.  Though she was adamant that the Muggle lottery was rigged.  
  
"What for?" Fred dismissed the idea, throwing a stick into the bonfire they'd set.  "They're already together."  
  
"But are they?"  Louis asked, drowsy and half in Dominique's lap.  She was plaiting his hair. "I mean, Albus said they're not dating.  And he's their best mate." This was booed down as no one thought highly of Albus' perception as he was Harry Potter's son.  
  
"Well, then, more like a bounty then," Roxanne suggested.  "For documentifiable proof that they are actually dating."  
  
"Is that even a word?"  
  
"The illiteracy of Weasleys," Roxanne huffed to Hugo's _pot meet kettle_.  
  
"We could walk in on them in bed together, and that's just normal."  
  
"From the horse's mouth, as they say," Hugo had thrown in.  "Like, either Jamie or Scorpius have to actually say that they're dating."  
  
As Scorpius was the most guarded person they knew - outside of the whole Scames aberration - this was not likely to happen.  Which made it perfect for betting purposes.  
  
Which was why Hugo was currently dragging Finnegan's gear up four flights of stairs for an exhibition in the States.  Magic was never allowed near the gear (due to fixing fears), and he really wondered if it was worth it.  
  
*  
  
Ginny stopped, mid-cardwriting (Aunt Muriel was in St Mungo's again for gout), and looked up at Harry.  "Do you think they have a charm for writing out invites?"  
  
"Unless you're inviting Muriel to perish untimely, I don't think this situation really necessitates a charm."  
  
"I meant for when James and Scorpius get married."  
  
"Do you actually think that Malfoy would let anyone send out cards for Scorpius' wedding?"  
  
"Point."  
  
"Well, there's always Lily."  Albus and Carla having sorted out their event while touring with the Italian National team.  "When she settles down with a nice young man."  
  
"Harry, I love you.  I really do." These words often presaged a criticism if delivered in a certain tone.  "But you have to take your patriarchal blinders off.  She's more likely to burn down the Ministry than marry."  
  
Harry took this in stride.  He was genuinely trying to wrap his head around his privilege.  "We've done a bang up job, Gin."  
  
"Yes, we have."  
  
*  
  
Scorpius first heard it during a photo shoot he'd been booked for with Manteau, a Parisian Wizarding clothing house.    
  
As Aunt Pansy was the editor of Charme, she was at the shoot with her children with Blaise: Ivy and Jace.  They were even more pretentious than the Malfoys. Ivy Zabini had catapulted to fame on the heels of a much publicized sex scandal with the French Minister of Magic engineered by her Mother.  She'd forged a successful perfume line from that and was now branching out into "other ventures." One of which included harvesting Phoenix droppings. He wished her all the luck on that.  
  
Jace was a model, but was "getting into music."  He moved amongst Muggle royalty and American celebrities and had a Muggle identity as DJ Fascination.  
  
Suffice it to say that Scorpius' being a starting Chaser for Falmouth was nothing to them.  Although Aunt Pansy always asked about it, having been briefly married to Oliver Wood. Very briefly.  Her youngest, Persephone, was the only thing she'd taken from it. Scorpius rather liked Persephone Wood, though she was in the States reading Medean classics.  "And how is your Father?" They had moved from the shoot to a small waitlist-only bistro. Pansy showing up had sent the waitstaff running for a table.  
  
"He's well."    
  
"He's a terrible correspondent.  Why hasn't he replaced that owl of his?  Bubo must be a hundred years old in bird years."  
  
"That is never going to happen."  Bubo had delivered his father's first love letter to his mother.  Bubo was probably only held together with charms and hope, but Draco would never replace him.    
  
"He's disgustingly sentimental."  Jace had convinced Ivy to take "unstaged" photos of him, head tilted to the left as if not posing.  "But I've always loved that about him."  
  
"You should visit.  He'd love to see you."  
  
"And leave the Continent?  Not bloody likely." She laughed into her drink.  "But what about you, Scorpius? How is your _amant_?"  
  
He choked a little on the water his tongue was chasing.  "I don't know what drivel you've gotten over here, but I haven't seen anyone for almost five years."  Or ever, really. But Aunt Pansy certainly didn't need to know that.  
  
"That's sad," Ivy noted with something that was almost real emotion.  
  
"You run a tight game, my dear.  You don't have to hide it from me.  Potter's lush as they come."  
  
Both Ivy and Jace looked mortally offended.  Jace saying, "Maman, I had no idea you knew that word."  
  
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, child mine."  
  
"James is just my friend."  
  
She gave him a knowing look - but thankfully changed the subject.  Did people actually think he was with James?  
  
The moment he got back to the Paris house, he Floo-called Albus' office at the Ministry, bargaining on his fame to express through international Floo.  Albus was there, sitting at his desk dutifully scratching out some report for Wizengamut Admin. He was the wizarding equivalent of a trainee solicitor and complained about the windiness of prose.  It caused terrible hand cramps. "Albus!"  
  
Albus dropped his quill on a " _Fuck_ ," having spilt his ink.  "Merlin, Scorpius. You scared the shit out of me."  
  
"I have to ask you something."  
  
"It must be important if you're Flooing from Paris."  
  
"People don't think… that James and I are dating, do they?"  Albus was suspiciously silent. "Merlin's beard."  
  
"Well, I don't think that.  You would have told me if you were.  Right?"  
  
"Yes, of course.  Of course." He ran an ashy hand through his hair.  "Has anyone else heard this?" What if James had heard it?  He wasn’t sure what was more horrifying. His being embarrassed by it or James laughing it off as inconceivable.  Scorpius had been in love with James Potter for a very long time. He was sweet and funny and sexy. But he was also straight.  He'd only ever dated women, even back to Hogwarts. On reflection, the last person James had dated (and Scorpius knew about) had been at Hogwarts.  Six years ago.  
  
"Er." Albus straightened up his parchment.  "Most of the family believes it."  
  
Scorpius broke the connection to Albus'. "What are you---"  
  
*  
  
James was under the shower, a bit wrecked after a pick-up scrum with Ted and his surprisingly mercenary work mates, when he heard the crack of apparition outside the shower curtain.  
  
This was not as distressing as it could be as very few people had direct apparating privileges.  In fact, at the moment, it was just Scorpius. "I thought you were in--" He was cut off when Scorpius ripped the shower curtain back.  "What the fuck?"  
  
"James."  
  
"Is everything okay?"  Completely unselfconscious at his own nudity being on view, James continued to stand where he was.  Scorpius looked a little… wild around the edges. Which was not like him. "Is your Father alright?"  
  
"James."  Scorpius put his hands on James' shower slicked shoulders, heedless of the fact that he was ruining his shirt.  "I have to tell you something before you hear it from someone else."  
  
James gripped Scorpius' forearms, shaking his head a bit to keep his hair from poking him in the eye.  "Are you... dying?" He was definitely freaking out. Scorpius’ Mum had died from a blood malediction, and James had no idea if it was hereditary.  It was something he thought about at night with Scorpius warm and pyjamaed nearby. Freaking out was definitely not a James Potter thing to do. Unless it was Scorpius.  He had shattered his leg at a match and just laughed about it. When Scorpius had been knocked unconscious by a Bludger, he had lost his mind. Enough that he'd been ejected from the game for hexing the Beater who'd done it.  
  
"James."  
  
"Merlin, Scorpius.  Just say it! You're actually scaring me."  
  
Even freaking him out, Scorpius’ face was heated and familiar. Completely lovely.  And then he said, "James. People think we are dating."  
  
"But we are dating."  James let go of Scorpius' left forearm to swipe his own hair back.  While Scorpius looked utterly gobsmacked, James had a sinking feeling.  "You don't think you were obliviated, do you?"  
  
It would not be the first attempt.  Scorpius had some super crazy fans who hated James.  Like paying for quality hexes, mailing cursed gifts crazy.  Luckily, he had an uncle for a Curse-Breaker. And very quick reflexes.  
  
"We're dating?"  Worryingly, Scorpius sounded like he didn't quite believe it.  "Your family thinks we are dating."  
  
"Scorpius."  James was completely flummoxed and slightly chilly.  Hot water in this flat was a limited commodity. "We've been together for years."  And the barest seed of doubt. "Right?"  
  
Scorpius bit his lower lip.  His _I am seriously considering this_ look was a really, really good look on him..  "I— But… but… you don't like me like that." It was quiet and confused.  
  
"I think I know how I feel fairly well, Scorpius.  I mean, we don't really talk about it because— well— I love you.  I always have." James' stomach dropped, his voice having gone raw.  "Have we not… been dating?"  
  
"You--I--" And then Scorpius' face went very serious.  He pulled James close enough that James could see the green flecks in Scorpius' grey eyes.  He had thought about kissing Scorpius for a long time but always thought it would never happen.  Scorpius had never dated anyone, nor had he ever shown any interest in anyone. Until he let James in.  He knew Scorpius was reserved and might be asexual. It didn't matter. He knew Scorpius cared for him and he absolutely loved Scorpius Malfoy.  

And as much as Mum said emotions were okay, quite a lot of what James Potter said got lost in translation.  He was not a brilliant Albus or a passionate intellectual like Lily. He was just dumbly passionate. Scorpius - _being with Scorpius_ \- was important and he knew his words would have just ruined it.    
  
But Scorpius was kissing him now, and he was ferocious.  Teeth and tongue plotting and marking. Claiming. James growled into it, pushing back and giving as good as he got.  Soapy water mixed with saliva and James didn't care. Scorpius was kissing him. Scorpius pulled back - James chasing after his mouth - and brought his hands to his face.  "James. If we were dating, I would have fucked you every fucking day."  
  
"We can catch up!"  James fumbled with the shower knob but had to concede the effort to Scorpius, whose hands weren't shaking as much.  Somehow they made it to the floor where Scorpius managed to get his flies open _before_ James took them in hand and brought them off in seconds.  He held himself above Scorpius by his forearms before rolling them to the side.  
  
And then Scorpius was laughing, rubbing his forehead against James'.  "I don’t know why you never said anything." Punching him on the hip for good measure.  "You could have just asked."  
  
"Scorpius, will you be my boyfriend?”  
  
"Merlin, that is such a James Potter thing to say."  
  
"Well.  Yes. But we both know I'm an idiot."  
  
“No,” Scorpius soothed.  “You just have so much inside that you tend to get ahead of yourself.”  And then, “But you meant it? What you said."  
  
"As you well know, I am a terrible liar.  No one believed me when I told them I was Harry Potter."  
  
"To be honest, you don't look anything like Harry Potter.  Not even after you stole someone's glasses." Scorpius managed to get his left leg around James' hip and rolled him over until he was straddling his hips. He kissed James mouth, "I love you," and his nose, "I love you," and his eyelids, "I love you."  
  
"Scorpius.  I just had a really good idea."  Because he was his mother's son, these words often presaged madness if delivered in a certain tone.    
  
*  
  
Hours after being roused by Scorpius in damp Muggle clothing clutching a mussed and idiotic James Potter, Albus was still clutching his head.  "So let me get this straight. You have… but you haven't… been dating for the past three years. And you just got married at Malfoy Manor by the Minister of Magic."  
  
"I knew it," Carla said, pulling together the outline of a breakfast, still in Albus' pyjamas.  "It's the worst kept secret in the League."  
  
*  
  
Draco Malfoy threw the Floo powder into his office fireplace and called up the address: a small, efficiency flat in Diagon where he arranged to collect his winnings.  "Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Weasley."  
  
Cutting the line, he called for tea and took his usual seat behind the ancient oak desk a Malfoy had probably plundered after crossing from Normandy.  From a secret compartment known only to Malfoys, he drew out the book. Crafted of the finest vellum crossed with unicorn hair and pearl powder, it cast an iridescent sheen in some lights.  He spent the morning steeling himself against the inevitable, before using his best quill to fill in the name next to Scorpius': _James Sirius Potter_.  The tapestry had already done it, apparently besotted with the eldest Potter to the point that it overrode it's good embroidering sense and forewent the traditional robes for a Quidditch jersey.  
  
After adding a drop of tea to his neat whisky, Draco moved to the painting over the fireplace, the amused eyes of Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy as she said, “I’m so proud of you.”

*

_It is a sad day for the wizarding world, as the chase is over for JAMES POTTER and SCORPIUS MALFOY._

_Was there any surprise when Falmouth’s resident lovebirds tied the knot?  Sources close to the couple say that theirs is a love story that spans decades.  Dare this incredibly talented reporter hazard to_ _say… generations?_

_In documents hitherto unknown, information has come to light that Head Auror, Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy…_

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the 2018 HP Next Gen Fest.
> 
> This story was influenced by this awesome Patrochilles fanfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14220222/chapters/32783337.


End file.
